


cornered

by pistolgrip



Series: heavenbound, together [5]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Nail Polish, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: There's no such thing as quiet on the base, but there might be something like peace.





	cornered

"Six, Six!"

Funf runs up to him with Sarasa behind her. He quickly weighs his options; they're blocking the doorway of the only exit to the room, but he's sitting next to the window and it's not too far of a drop to the ground floor. The window is locked, though, and in the few seconds that it takes for him to open it, they might catch up—especially Funf, who's now barrelling into where he's sitting at full speed.

It takes him too long to decide, and he ends up with a lap full of child Harvin and small hands on his mask, and he barely gets the time to screech _no_ before the mask comes off. The effort of taking his mask off nearly launches Funf backwards off his lap, and he scrambles to catch her before she hits her head on the coffee table.

Still, it leaves him without his mask. As gently yet quickly as he can, he puts Funf on the sofa next to him and sticks one hand out for his mask, the other covering his face. "Please."

"Nuh-uh."

He grimaces, closing his eyes. The others are getting better at stealing his mask when they want something, the two biggest offenders sitting in front of him right now. At this point, it's probably better just to cut his losses. "What do you want."

"I wanna paint your nails."

"Paint... my nails?" He turns his hand over, looks at his nails. They're nothing special, cut close to the edge. What does painting nails even _mean?_ He imagines the chipping paint of some of the walls in the base on his hands, and he turns them over again.

"Yeah!"

Sarasa comes up and sits on the coffee table, putting small bottles of coloured liquid next to her. Without saying anything else, she takes Six's hand that's sticking out towards Funf she puts it on her knee, reaching for a bottle of bright pink.

Immediately, his hand recoils, but Sarasa pulls it back. "Don't be a baby! It'll look good."

Funf tugs the hand off his face and he says, desperately, "At least give me my mask back."

She does—puts it right back on his face for him—and she takes his other hand and a bottle of black liquid and starts uncapping that, too.

There's no use stopping either of them when they get like this, all of the Eternals know. It's easy to turn down Sarasa, but when she gets Funf on her side it becomes nearly impossible. She's just a kid, Six thinks, and she's in the world of the Eternals. Her magic revives them all from death and keeps them alive. She's seen more death at her age than most, and Six understands, on some level, what that's like.

Still, he _would_ like some peace and quiet. "Was I really the best choice for this?"

"All the other girls are busy and you're _never_ doing anything," Sarasa whines. "Have some excitement for once in your life."

"Siete," he suggests, very, _very_ strongly, because of all of the girls are busy, Siete's probably the next most likely to listen to either of them.

"Siete's on a _mission,"_ she scoffs, like that isn't their entire job, doing missions.

"Uno."

"He's next, if we can find him. You're not getting out of this one, stop trying."

Sara squeezes his wrist a little too tightly, and Funf—her hands are more gentle, and it fills him with a sense of guilt to even think about trying to get away from her when she's already so determined to do something so silly and mundane like painting his nails. At least she's given his mask back, he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch and trying to get somewhat comfortable.

The two of him don't seem to mind that he's wishing he were anywhere but here, talking as if he weren't in the room. At least they're enjoying themselves, spending time the way they want to. He still has to learn and relearn constantly that downtime between missions doesn't have to be balanced with waking up in cold sweats in the middle of the night, fearing for the worst, simultaneously wishing his nightmares would come true while wishing they would stop. It's gotten easier, these days; he can sleep with the window open, no longer going to bed in all of his armour, but they're all creatures of habit in the end.

It's hard to remain in his head when the two arguably loudest people of the Eternals are around him, though, and he becomes part of their conversation just by proximity. He finds out through them they're all having a sleepover later that night, and that some of the other girls are already out getting snacks and something or another—he can't keep track, just kind of wishes it was over, already.

Sarasa holds his own hand up to his face when she finishes, and Funf does the same; the motion is so sudden that it nearly makes him jump. "Whaddaya think?" Funf asks, voice suddenly louder than it was a minute ago in her conversation with Sarasa.

The colours are absolutely atrocious. Sarasa's decided to give him a different colour on each of his nails, bright pink to pastel blue to something mildly puke-coloured, and she shakes his hand a bit as if to emphasize how awful her colour choices were.

Funf at least has gone more consistent, all of the nails on his other hand a blue so dark it's almost black. She's had the decency to give him consistency and a colour that at _least_ matches him somewhat, and experimentally—without thinking—he curls his fingers in, as if to make a claw. The other two laugh and he snaps out of it; yanking his hands away, he says, "You've finished. Now leave me be."

They don't close the door fully when they leave, and he hears them giggling through the opening.

 

 

 


End file.
